20242022
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41.16 Miles; 3,696 Feet of Gain; Thousand Trails Oakzanita Springs to Agua Caliente Campground The night was expectedly cold and well below freezing. Morning revealed a coating of thick frost over bikes and shelter. We packed up and enjoyed the well-heated bathrooms before pushing off down the road to enter Cuyamaca Rancho State Park. Janna and I joined some singletrack paralleling the road as the sun hit the peaks warming everything. We turned right on East Mesa Fire Road to begin an ascent next to Descanso Creek towards the Cleveland National Forest. The hillsides were sage and olive green with dense groves of live oak and manzanita sprawling across them all. I felt alive and refreshed being out in the backcountry on a spring day in southern California. The dirt road wrapped and wound under hanging eaves of branches and into open spreads of open chaparral before finally gaining the ridgeline next to Oakzanita Peak. Here, the terrain softened into beautiful doubletrack that sped across the highland. Jeffrey Pines grew singularly on high along the route. The Stagecoach 400 joined singletrack in a thicket of woods near Granite Springs. I was humming my excitement as we pedaled across swaths of grasslands sprung from the woods. The sky was blue and clear while the singletrack was smooth and rolling. The track soon crossed the USFS boundary and became rugged, rocky, and eroded. We resorted to hike-a-biking in the woods. It was slow-going but we knew we had a short day and some big descents ahead. San Diego County had been hammered by some recent winter storms making water sources plentiful along this section. The trail joined with Pine Mountain Road which crossed a flowing creek on its upward track towards the ridgeline of the Laguna Mountains. We settled in for bouts of HAB up the often steep, rocky, and woody dirt road. The expansive views of the woody chaparral landscape were simultaneously gorgeous. Then, we spilled out onto the pavement of the Sunrise Highway. And it was cold. We donned a bunch of layers and decided to lean our bikes against the guardrails to eat snacks before heading continuing along the highway. Eating was coupled with conversation about riding along this same stretch of the Sunrise HWY two years ago when we were heading north on the Sierra Cascades route in June (and it was hot then!). It was so interesting to be back here along this same crest of mountain with the precipice of spring just crossed. We felt comfortably relaxed, but also noted the need to get going lest we miss making the Agua Caliente General Store before it closed at 4 pm this afternoon. Neither Janna nor I am overly-huge fans of rocky singletrack riding (especially due to my mountain bike accident years ago that collapsed my lungs), so we opted to ride the side of the highway instead of taking the official Stagecoach 400 route that jumped on bumpy narrow trail directly adjacent to the smooth pavement. We had also ridden this highway before and knew it to be fun to fly down. All the trees up here were barren and winter-bound, but staring down into the depths of the desert heart, we could see vibrant green beckoning. We pedaled along the shoulder and officially passed into Anza-Borrego Desert State Park. I loved it. As mid-afternoon approached, the road led to a turnoff on dirt singletrack we had to take. The Stagecoach 400 took the Pedro Fages Trail/CA Riding and Hiking Trail. We were approaching the descent down Oriflamme Canyon. Notorious/famous on the route as a seriously rocky and technical descent, I excitedly felt my chest swell at the chance to ride it. Janna and I joked to each other that as Arizonans we had a pretty good idea of how bad "rocky" could be for a road. We played that it would either live up to the hype or be seriously un-southwestern in its ruggedness. The singletrack took us across a grassy field before jutting into junipers and turning a corner revealing a crumpled peakscape of desert below. We heard some people ahead; it turned out to be two mountain bikers doing a day ride in the area. One of them (Chris) ran down from his lunch spot to excitedly talk to us about the Stagecoach 400. It turns out he was scouting the conditions and planned on racing the route during the Grand Depart in two weeks. He built some stoke about the wild conditions ahead and urged us on. Janna and I turned another corner and let loose down some rocky road cut into the hillside. The plants began to immediately change from the montane to arid chaparral. The dirt became sandy. The greenery was enlivened from winter's dormancy. I could see the road entering a pocket of valley ahead as strewn rocks picked up, but it was nothing too bad in our opinion. That was until we turned another corner and entered the funnel top of Oriflamme. The road quickly deteriorated into all the hype this section properly deserved. I slowed making sure not to take anything too quick or risky (especially since my pelvis was months into recovery after fracturing in the fall). And it was steep - truly. I crawled and walked my way carefully down most of the insane (to me) switchbacks and boulders. Janna, remarkably, sent it all pretty cleanly. There was one particular turn I came around where I watched her descend an incredibly inclined section of chunk that I promised myself to never ride. I was slow and she sped ahead. But man was it beautiful. I loved the sudden splurge of desert rock and warmth that wrapped around us as only a canyon descent can. The whole thing was enjoyably thrilling. I eventually caught Janna at another switchback, and she laughed at my assessment of her downhill skills. Both of us felt giddy as the dirt road became doubletrack but remained just as rocky. We rounded another corner coming down Oriflamme and suddenly saw a bright-orange, absolutely brand new, Jeep completely high-topped on a rock. A couple were busily attempting to dig it out using only a stick and a garden trowel (I kid you not). We stopped and asked if they needed any help. The two seemed confused by us being out here and initially claimed they were all good. We persisted with questions, and they finally said they needed help. We were still miles from pavement on a super technical primitive road, so it may have been some time before someone with a vehicle came to this spot; Janna and I told them we were heading to Agua Caliente Springs and would let a ranger know about their situation when we got there. Janna and I rode about a mile further when I saw a large snake crossing the road. I was immediately enthralled and recognized it as one I've desperately wanted to see over the years: a rosy boa - one of the only constrictors native to the United States. I jumped off my bike and excitedly starting snapping pictures as it laid basking in the sun in the middle of the road. Pumped from the encounter, we headed back on-route and started towards the paved highway (but not first without some seriously sandy sections - a taste of what was to come). We hit pavement and started racing as fast as our legs could sustainably carry us towards Agua Caliente County Park. The General Store there was due to close by 4 PM and it was currently 3. We had about 10 miles to go with relatively flat surface all the way there. I tucked in and barreled forward across the desert. The drive to arrive prior to closing was a force of adrenaline upon my legs - we didn't have food to get us through tomorrow otherwise. The miles spun by quickly and we arrived at the store at precisely 3:58 pm. We hurried off the bikes, propped them, but the door was locked and lights were off. Janna grabbed the giant bull bell nearby and gave it a swing; the loud gong brought the shop owner from around back who happily opened the store to let us bikepackers grab some food. We thanked him so much as we packed our food purchases away and then sat out front in the afternoon shade of the building overhang to drink some cold drinks and eat some frozen paletas. Fed and relaxed, Janna and I made our way to the ranger check-in. The ranger on duty immediately asked if we were riding the Stagecoach 400 and expressed her desire to do so in the future; that really pumped us up. We made our way to our campsite. The afternoon was just perfectly beautiful and chill as we sat and ate more snacks. Other campers kept making their way over to our site to talk to us, asking us questions about the route and expressing their excitement for us. I suddenly remembered that we needed to report the high-topped couple back up Oriflamme Canyon. Two rangers came over and we gave them the details. As Agua Caliente was its own park division separate from Anza-Borrego Desert State Park, they needed to telephone the other park to go check on the couple. After that, evening came in with a gentle breeze and mauve skies sinking beneath the walls of the desert amphitheater around us. The ranger station at the front had excellent AT&T reception so we walked there to go text our families. Standing in the dark near the front, we saw there was a weather report whiteboard on the side of the building for visitors. I glanced at it, and my eyebrows raised. "Santa Ana Winds" was plastered on every day for the next four days, starting tomorrow. Tomorrow predicted 35 mph winds and 50 mph gusts. The day-after stated 45-50 mph winds with 60 mph gusts…serving as a headwind both days in the direction we were going to be traveling most of the time. I had only heard the term "Santa Ana Winds" used once before by a another cyclist - and learned the winds could be terrible. The currents are regional and "sweep down from the deserts and across coastal Southern California." They are no joke. Dismayed by the possibility, we steeled our nerves and agreed we would make it together before turning in for the night.
40.94 Miles; 5,722 Feet of Gain; Rancho San Diego to Thousand Trails Oakzanita Springs
Two years ago I made an initial attempt to ride the Stagecoach 400 in 2021 as a solo bikepacking trip. I made it five days in but abandoned the desert due to temperatures well over 100 degrees; after living and biking for years in triple digit heat, I didn't have the desire to experience Anza-Borrego under those temps. Instead, I twisted the route into a spiral and made my own tract around the San Diego area. But, the beauty and diversity of the route hung heavily in my mind. All I wanted to do was show Janna how incredible of a route it was. Mountains, Deserts, Ocean. Truly, a spectacular tour of SoCal spread. We thought about doing it last year over Spring Break, but the blizzard conditions that hit the route that year made it unpalatable. So Spring Break came this year. The temperatures warmed up enough to beat back the worst of winter on high but abate the onset of summer heat down low. Perfect. I planned out the route deciding to start the ride in San Diego which afforded easier opportunities to park the car as well as a push to get the desert done first before it had any more chance to heat up. That, and we loved Idyllwild as the optimal trail town to take a zero-day in during a mid-route rest day. Janna agreed. After a rough and tough end to quarter 3 of the school year, we were hankering for some backcountry adventure to shake the hold that work had on both of our constant waking thoughts. The Stagecoach 400 ended up delivering on everything.
We drove to San Diego the day after school got out. The temperatures were a little cool but significantly warmer than at the Canyon. Janna and I had stayed in San Diego for the past several years at Vineyard Hacienda, a local place right next to the route just inland of the San Diego National Wildlife Refuge. Vineyard Hacienda agreed to watch our car on-site for the week we planned to spend bikepacking; they ended up not charging us anything for the parking with a paid night's stay at the beginning and end of the ride. Morning came quick with the palpitations of spring. We strapped gear on our bikes ready to just completely lose ourself in the ride. My head was swimming with stress from school and my body wanted nothing more than to just move across the land under my own human power. By 9:30 am, we were ready to head the mile or two down the road to intersect with the official route. Janna and I turned right onto the Sweetwater River Trail that hung as a brown strip across the lush neons of spring. Literally, the ground was bursting with new-growth-grass. Man did it feel lovely to bathe in those warming temps.
Dirt transitioned to neighborhood asphalt and the miles felt easy. We careened along bike shoulders while weekend road cyclists passed us. We soon swung a right onto some truly stellar dirt on a climb up Sloane Canyon. The surface was hero-quality, and we just soaked it all in. A woman came walking down the road with a stroller full of two twins while also walking two horses simultaneously on leashes. Super impressed, we stopped to talk. Turns out she lives along here and called this area a slice of heaven. I agreed for the beauty of spring green and the lulling rush of water in the creek below. Janna and I pedaled on, crossed Sweetwater River a couple more times, and then got off our bikes to push up some steeper climbs. I was completely unconditioned after a winter and third quarter of little consistent working out. My goal on this route was to ride far by going slow and steady with frequent hike-a-biking to save my knees/legs.
The road began to desiccate and crack from the effects of runoff and heat. A quick left brought us onto the California Riding and Hiking Trail. We opted to HAB instead of actually riding. The path quickly narrowed in and became all pushing to the top. But the views were utterly spectacular around us as I gazed back down the mountainside. The CA Riding and Hiking Trail popped us out on top of a ridgeline in the spill-sprawl of rural neighborhoods. Flowers were blooming orange and yellow across sandy slopes. Janna and I sped down the blacktop along a backcountry highway with views down to Loveland Reservoir on our rights. The descent was fast and smooth before a turn along busy shoulderless Tavern Road that carried us easily into Alpine, CA. I was shocked how quickly we got here; I've driven by Alpine many times on the way to San Diego along the I-8 and always thought it would take forever to bike up here from the coast. We immediately saw a local grocery store, parked our bikes out front, grabbed some fresh fruit, and sat in chairs in the shade to eat a lunch. We both felt utterly relaxed knowing the first half of the climbing was done for the day.
The Stagecoach 400 continued through a stretch of urban storefronts in Alpine before skirting over the I-8 and entering the Viejas Indian Reservation. It was easy pedaling once more across the rez before entering the Cleveland National Forest by jumping on dirt at Viejas Grade Road. Again, hero dirt and hardpack met our tires under blue skies. The climb up the side of Poser Mountain was everything we wanted on Day 1 of a trip. We stopped to eat some snacks and take a rest when two bikepackers came riding down in the opposite direction. They quickly stopped and the four of us got to chatting. Turns out they were doing a reverse ride of the Stagecoach 400 (along with some alt side-routes) and they were heading to San Diego to finish. I've always felt a sense of awe when talking to someone at the end of a route or trail I'm just beginning. You dream yourself in their feet wondering if the scope of your hopes will actually happen. They sped on and Janna and I continued our climb up towards the railroad house. The ride careened along curves, merged with pavement once more, and carried us into Descanso.
Descanso had a POI on the maps mentioning excellent burritos as Veronica's Kitchen. It was shortly before 4 pm, and Janna and I were buoyed by a beautiful day's riding, so we stopped to grab some food. It was fantastic and hit the spot. We left Descanso and joined some dirt trail in Cuyamaca Ranchero State Park. This turned out to be the most beautiful portion of riding of the day. The sun, golden, hung low, casting dramatic shadows and light across boulders and scrub that blanketed the green mountainsides. The Sweetwater River ran adjacent to our trail up a ravine. I just biked basking in that glow. But the sun was now dipping towards evening so we picked up the pace. The trail turned right up a more-rutted way. We started pushing our bikes before cresting a hill and descending to a creek crossing. We crossed the creek and intersected with Route 79. It was pretty busy with people driving into the mountains for the weekend. We had sun still, albeit it on the cusp of the horizon, so Janna and I made haste to use it for own visibility/safety. Only a few miles and turns later we arrived at Thousand Trails Oakzanita Springs Campground where I had made a reservation to camp for the night. The campground was beautiful, quiet, and had dream showers for a touring cyclist. We both showered and air-dried despite the 40-50 degree temps before crawling into the tent for a solid night's sleep. 67.66 Miles; Rancho San Diego, CA to PCH to Escondido, CA I made plans with my Aunt Martha to bike to their place in Escondido tonight to stay with them before I made my way back to Idyllwild to pick up my bike. I bid Vineyard Hacienda adieu and started pedaling through neighborhoods that whisked me northwest back towards the ocean. Komoot did a fantastic job taking on a weaving bike-friendly path down lesser-used roads and bike multi-use paths through the outskirts of downtown San Diego right back to Torrey Pines and the Pacific Coast Highway. Once I reached the ocean, I laid out on the beach and enjoyed the perfects temps and sun with my bikepacking rig laying in the sand.
The latter half of my afternoon was spent cycling directly inland from Encinitas towards Escondido. Unfortunately, Komoot struggled more here, repeatedly taking up giant climbs and down big descents straight into private property notices. I was forced to turn around and retrace my route repeatedly in a giant semi-circle of approaches until the evening came and found me finally arriving at my aunt's house. I hadn't seen my Aunt Martha nor my younger cousin for some time, so it was great to converse and catch up with them. With the scolding heat descending on the area, I was happy to have truncated my route. However, I knew I'd be back to ride the whole thing again as the Stagecoach 400 is beyond a doubt, a phenomenal spread of SoCal environs from pine forests to desert to oceanside beach. 0 Miles; Rancho San Diego, CA After my late night arrival, and looking at my schedule, I realized I had some flexibility with riding moving forward. First off, a significant heat wave was due to hit the entire SoCal area over the next few days. Looking ahead to Anza-Borrego, it was obvious that most of the daily highs were going to be well over 100 degrees - especially in the washes and canyons. After last summer's theme of heat domes and exclusive night riding on the Sierra Cascades route, I wasn't feeling it to ride through those temperatures. So, I made the decision to come back and ride all those desert sections this winter when temps would be more amenable (see Fully Anza-Borrego). I would modify the Stagecoach 400 route to ride the area and enjoy the San Diego area.
I started by making today a Zero Day, especially after the place I was staying offered me a great rate as a cyclist. I spent the morning enjoying the gardens on the grounds, swimming in the pool, sleeping, and absolutely relaxing. I also worked on adjusting the route to loop back into Escondido after a pit stop at the ocean once more in order to visit my Aunt Martha. By mid-afternoon, I biked to the local movie theater to see The Batman - I had the whole place to myself and loved the movie. Evening came on, I biked back and around the San Diego National Wildlife Refuge before returning to Vineyard Hacienda. 66.42 Miles; Encinitas, CA to Rancho San Diego, CA After two big days, I sleep in a bit more before disembarking and biking to one of Janna's and mine's favorite breakfast places along the Pacific Coast Highway --> Pannikin Coffee and Tea. After a warm breakfast there, I continued south along the Stagecoach 400 which is pretty much the paved PCH route for much of the day. I stop along the ocean many times to take in the literally perfect conditions with sun-kiss and wavefront before arriving at Torrey Pines State Reserve. I've biked up and through Torrey Pines many times before - notably during our 2015 PCH bike tour. This morning, I sit and enjoy the beach and ocean at the bottom of the climb before pushing up and up the steep grade to summit on sea cliffs and endemic Torrey Pine fields overlooking the vast Pacific Ocean. I stop at the Torrey Pines visitor center for water and then ride south through the park before exiting back onto the paved bike shoulder of highway. The Stagecoach 400 jumps off the pavement further south and onto dirt singletrack weaving through the eucalyptus grounds of the University of California San Diego. From here, I jump on a bike multiuse paved path that parallels the busy highway to take me south to La Jolla, Mission Beach, and near Point Loma. I ride through neighborhoods before unexpectedly slamming my brakes to a halt at Mitch's (Janna and mine's favorite seafood place in San Diego). I grab some fish and chips plus clam chowder before urging myself on with the late afternoon's arrival. I circumvent Coronado Bay through the literal rush hour heart of downtown San Diego past naval ships and ferries before exiting on the south side of the city to make my way down to Chula Vista. Here, the route keeps to paved shoulders and swings inland-east before joining some paved multiuse paths that begin to weave through the green riparian corridor of Sweetwater County Park. I ride on dirt singletrack and wide unpaved path through the heart of Chula Vista before arriving at the cusp of sunset at Sweetwater Reservoir on the outskirts of the San Diego National Wildlife Refuge. Here, the route jumps on a spiderweaving network of dirt crisscrossing semi and fully technical singletrack that that wind up and around the western flanks of San Miguel Mountain. The sun quickly sets over the now-distant ocean so I turn on my lights and keep pedaling the singletrack into the darkness arrived. I probably bike another 1-2 hours after dark listening to coyotes yipp and riding alongside the Sweetwater River. I exit the refuge onto paved Campo Road just outside of Rancho San Diego where I turn east off-route to a previously reserved night at Vineyard Hacienda. This place turns out to be spectacular and gorgeous, although I get completely lost in the dark as semis drive by me on the nighttime shoulder of the road. Once there, I settle in and enjoy a nice long shower and peaceful night. 71.67 Miles; Lake Henshaw Resort to Encinitas, CA I slept hard and woke up to a massive tom turkey gobbling loudly outside my shelter. I arose into the very cold air and walked to the front of the resort for a warm breakfast at the restaurant. Well fed and feeling warm, I pushed out and up and immediate gigantic paved hill. I spent the next hour of so along the shoulder of the highway climbing up and up until a sudden right on unpaved gravel took me through a spell of live oak and green-grass fields. This was Black Canyon Road - an absolutely stunning ride through the heart of the Black Mountain. Black Canyon Road descended through chaparral and oak through the heart of its namesake Canyon on smooth gravel that passed through riparian corridors rich with plant life. I kept pulling over to look at Black Mountain, take in the quickly changing vegetation-type, and then let loose and fly down the dirt road. Near the bottom, the route veered onto some 4WD red dirt that climbed up and down the contours of adjoining hills before spilling me onto the Coast to Crest Trail. I was completely unfamiliar with the Coast to Crest Trail, but it turned out to be one of the highlights of the Stagecoach 400 for me. It's mostly smooth singletrack and multi-use path that stretches from the inland dry mountains to the Pacific Coast. The section in the San Dieguito River Park I started on was a tan ribbon stretching through flower-studded green hills I had just descended. The heat of the day was really increasing. I joined a paved road up a crazy steep ascent, wove through the outskirt neighborhoods of Ramona, descended an edgy/busy highway with no shoulder near Tims Canyon, and finally got off the pavement again and onto the Coast to Crest Trail near San Pasqual Valley. The Stagecoach 400 skirted neighborhoods keeping to this awesome ribbon of singletrack that stuck to the narrow corridor of the San Dieguito River Park. Flowers, riparian habitat, and reservoirs passed by. I eventually found myself coming into Escondido's urban area but still flanked on either side by the corridor of park. The Coast to Crest Trail went along the shores of Lake Hodges before opening up into a multi-use dirt path that descended Del Dios Gorge. Neighborhoods stood on adjoining hills as I rode up some endless singletrack switchbacks and then descended to a fairly deep crossing of Lusardi Creek where I had to carry my bike through the water. The tendrils of evening were coming on so I made haste along the San Dieguito River before I spilled out on the cusp of sunset at the Pacific Ocean near Del Mar. The clouds had that hazy, but diffuse beauty, that doused harsh light and softened all appearance in rich color. I jumped on the bike lane adjoining Highway 101 and rode north towards Carlsbad State Beach Campground and my spot for the night.
75.28 Miles; Idyllwild, CA to Lake Henshaw Resort
After winter's cold had sat on my bones for months, I ached for some desert heat and escape. Spring Break 2022 was fast approaching, and I had yet to finalize plans. I started pouring over Bikepacking.com maps and realized the Stagecoach 400 would be perfect. The nearly 400 mile route spans an array of biomes in southwester California. It begins in Idyllwild high up in the San Jacinto Mountains above Palm Springs before tumbling down to San Diego, rides along the coast, turns inland to cross Anza-Borrego Desert State Park, and then climbs back up to Idyllwild, CA. A trip through deserts, along the Pacific Coast, and up mountains was exactly what I wanted. More-so, I was somewhat familiar with the locale due to our Sierra Cascades Bike Tour the previous summer - I was looking forward to seeing some of these places again. The organizers of the Stagecoach 400 had made a deal with the Idyllwild Inn to let bikepackers stay for a discount at their smallest cabin. I put in reservations and looked forward to Spring Break.
Janna would be flying to Ohio, so this would be a solo trip. The day we left the Canyon for Phoenix, a massive snowstorm hit. We barely skidded along out of the high country before the highways were closed behind us. I dropped Janna at the airport and drove to California. I reached Idyllwild in the evening, checked in, put my car in some long-term parking, and then set around to preparing for tomorrow. I awoke early and pushed my bike out into the early dawn frost. Sequoias stood dark as light crept over Idyllwild and its lingering winter snow drifts. I started up some side roads before disembarking down dirt, but I did not make it far before I ran into an immediate reroute. A recent burn had resulted in a mandatory closure for all users of the dirt decent off of Idyllwild. I turned my bike around and proceeded to drop down the dirt highway to Lake Hemet. This all felt familiar because Janna and I had ridden this direction in reverse the previous summer on the Sierra Cascades bike tour. I sped past the general store and turned right onto a dirt road that began a beautiful climb up through pines and oak via Thomas Mountain. I turned around constantly to take in the opposing views of spring-touched San Jacinto. On curves, I spied distant San Gorgonio peaked in snow. I crested the range and sped down the other, more arid side. Chapparal habitat appeared as the road turned dusty and hot. The dirt road vividly crossed the landscape, etching descents in the scrub before turning me out into downtown Anza. I rode over to the gazebo in the local park where Janna and I had relaxed last summer. I refilled my water, ran into the small grocery, and then pushed off to the other side of town.
The pavement ended as I head directly south, slowly climbing up and over the Beauty Mountains along the narrow non-wilderness road. The dirt was severely eroded from winter rains. I more or less paralleled the Pacific Crest Trail that ran atop an adjoining peak while I sailed the valleys. I was in firm desert scrub now. Large granite boulders dotted the hillsides as flashy beige cacti sprouted around me. I rolled up and down dirt 4WD roads across Pine Mountain through gorgeous white granite spires and jumbled mash before grabbing pavement and sailing downwards into Warner Springs.
I was back again in another location from the Sierra Cascades. I stopped at the small gas station for some Gatorades after the hot day, talked to a PCT hiker, and then pedaled hard along the shoulder of the highway to Lake Henshaw. I realized that Lake Henshaw Resort (where I planned on camping) had a business office that closed soon. I sped along in the evening hour and reached the campground with minutes to go. There was literally almost no one tent camping in their vast campground so I picked a spot under a large live oak tucked back in. Wild turkeys called in the twilight while I called Janna on the phone. Darkness came on strong, so climbed into my shelter and slept hard. |